Descent
by Dare
Summary: The tragic and haunting tale of how Cammy came to be under Bison's control.


Darkness.   
Her world was a realm of nothing, devoid of sight, sound, touch, and   
emotion. She knew she existed, but she didn't know as what. She floated in a sea   
of black; engulfed, enveloped, swallowed whole. The nothingness was all   
around her, was in her, was her, and she didn't feel enough to scream.   
Then, a voice:   
"Where is the prototype?"   
It was a heavy voice, deep, menacing. She feared it, but couldn't   
remember why.   
"Yes, sir." came another, more high-pitched, less strong tone. "She   
should be responding to external stimuli, now. Would you like me to-"   
"Do it."   
"As you command."  
Then, there was a _click_.   
Suddenly, the darkness cleared away. She would have perhaps winced   
at the bright light that she could now perceive, but she could not move her   
body, not even an eyelid.   
She could see that she was in a room; a cold, dark, metallic room,   
strapped to a chair underneath heavy lights. Why was she restrained? The   
leather bands dug into her slim arms and legs.   
The voices again. And this time, they had faces. The first was a tall,   
thin man wearing a white coat. A doctor, perhaps? He did carry a syringe at his   
side. Even so, something inside her recoiled in apprehension.   
He came nearer to her, and she could smell his nicotine-polluted breath   
as he shone a penlight into her left eye. He moved the light and somehow, she   
followed it with a green eye.   
"Good, good...." he murmured as he snapped the penlight off and   
wrote something on the little clipboard he carried.   
"Your mumbling does not give me the information I have come for."   
came the deeper, undeniably more powerful voice. She couldn't tell who it was   
that spoke, because he was off to the side and she couldn't move her head.   
"Forgive me, sir." said the thin man, nervously putting his pen away,   
and then opening a folder that was on a table nearby.   
"Let's see........." he said, flipping to the first page. "Subject name:   
Camilla Janis White. Age: Sixteen. Race: Caucasian. Place of residence:   
London, Great Britain. Occupation: Student..........."   
Name... The word rang a bell in her mind. Camilla White... She felt   
that she _should_ know what that name meant to her, but couldn't remember   
what.   
"I do not care about who she was." thundered that voice. "I want to   
know of what use she is to me, now."   
"Of course, sir. Well, we had to start with the routine memory wipe and   
synaptic recalibration. Blanked her mind, and whatnot. We haven't yet started   
the subliminal and subconscious reconditioning, but a far as progress, we're   
ahead of schedule by a day."   
"I see." boomed the voice.   
"As it is, sir," ingratiated the white coat, " she is a perfect specimen.   
Young, healthy, strong...........all of the physical traits as per your requirements."   
"What of the other requirements?"   
"Oh, yes. Well, her records shouldn't be so hard to alter. The British   
System is known to have let a few of its citizens 'fall through the cracks' every   
now and then, so barely a soul will notice that all proof of her existence will   
vanish. No siblings, and all other family members are dead, or at least   
estranged."   
*Family?* the words struck deep within her.   
"Yes," boomed the voice, now coming nearer. "How surprising that   
one of such beauty-"   
A rough hand grasped her chin to look up.   
"-will become my new secret weapon."   
The face that filled her vision was a barely human face. It was the face   
of a beast, dark skin that was rough and weathered, sharp teeth in a hideous grin.   
But the most frightening thing of all was his eyes.   
The darkness and terrible menace that was reflected in those eyes   
shook her to her very soul, even in her current state. She knew nothing about   
this man, except that she feared him. She did recognize him, but how?   
"A pity her family had to be...dissuaded. They could have been of   
some use to me as well."   
That was it. Something inside her opened up. Memories, stark and   
static, flashed through her mind like sheet lightning.   
She could remember non-images, which at one point would be as clear   
as summer's sunlight, and at the next moment would be gone as a soap bubble   
would burst.   
She remembered..............what? Images of two people, older than her   
no doubt, but familiar. A man and woman, and they were looking at her with   
eyes filled with emotion, but what was it?   
Could it have been love?   
  
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Studio Fan Presents   
  
DESCENT   
  
A Tale Of Cammy White   
  
Millenium Edition  
  
By Darrick Chen  
  
Street Fighter is trademark and copyright of Capcom   
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It was sometime in the evening, early fog rolling in from the bay. Off in   
the distance, there was a clock sounding, a big clock.   
"Look", a warm female voice said. "Big Ben is ringing the hour. Look,   
Cammy, isn't it a wonderful old thing?"   
"Yes, Mum," someone said, and she realized it was her. Then, was her   
name Cammy? "It is rather nice."   
Another voice. This time deep and manly, no less full of warmth.   
"Yes, it is rather nice. Sadly, it's been falling into disrepair of course.   
And the bloody Parliament isn't willing to allocate what's needed to preserve it."   
"Oh, Lionel, must you be so pessimistic about everything?" The   
woman's voice scolded in a loving tone.   
"I'm not pessimistic, I'm just saying it's a shame, that's all."   
"Even so, do hush up and try to enjoy yourself. After all. it's our   
daughter's birthday, today."   
He smiled. "I suppose it is, at that. Very well."  
There was suddenly an object in her hands. A small parcel, wrapped in   
paper.   
A present.   
"Happy birthday, darling"   
"Oh, Dad, thank you!" She quickly removed the bright packaging to   
reveal a jewelry box, which she opened. Her eyes fell on a pendant, an angel   
made of silver, its arms and wings plated with gold and spread wide, seemingly   
to receive heavenly illumination.   
"It's beautiful." she breathed.   
"It's a genuine St.Thomasina's Angel." The man who was her father   
explained. "They take ages to make. I had to trek all the way to a Belgian   
Cathedral on one of my trips to get it."   
"Then, this must have been terribly expensive."   
"Actually, it was quite cheap, considering..."   
"Cosidering?" she asked.   
"Considering the happiness I could bring to my dearest little girl on   
her sixteenth birthday."   
She fought tears. "Daaaaddd........." She tried to fake annoyance. "You   
know I don't like to be called 'little girl', anymore."   
"Don't care. You'll always be my little dark horse. Besides, I had to   
deal with Frenchmen to get this gift, so I think I deserve at least the privilege of   
calling you so."   
They laughed, all three of them together. Then, her mother pulled back   
her long twin pigtails, so she could snap the pendant into place around her neck   
"Honestly, Camilla." her mother said. "Perhaps you should reconsider   
this hairdo of yours."   
"Mum......." Cammy sighed. "I like my hair this way. No one else at   
my school has hair like this."   
"Yes, we know." her father sighed. "We've gotten more than one   
conference with Sister Angelina about it. She says it's distracting."   
"That's the point. It makes me stand out, noticeable. It's bad enough   
enough we have to wear those silly uniforms, but at least there wasn't anything   
in the school code about hair."   
"You yourself might change that, my dear." her father stated.   
Suddenly, they noticed they weren't alone anymore.   
Men, about seven of them, and dressed all in red and black, had come   
seemingly out of nowhere and surrounded them. Instinctively, Cammy's father   
drew her closer to him, as well as his wife.   
"Here now, you lot." he said, nervous quaver almost making its way   
into his voice. "What's the meaning of this?"   
Silence. The men in black parted ranks to admit someone who was   
obviously   
their leader. He was a huge and imposing man, sheathed in a voluminous black   
cloak. His features were obscured beneath a red general's cap, though the   
headwear wasn't from any acknowledged militia in the world. The man spoke.   
"Are you Lionel White?"   
"I am." Cammy's father admitted, taking out a pair of wire-rimmed   
glasses so as to see who was talking to him.   
"I am known simply as Bison." the huge man said. "I have need of   
you."   
"Do you." Lionel said. "What need would this be, exactly?"   
"I am the leader of what you might call a 'small' military movement in   
Thailand."   
"Is that so."   
"And as a leader, I need to be able to support my men and soldiers. Of   
late, I find that the British Armed Forces are becoming quite troublesome in my   
efforts to acquire supplies within the isles..........."   
"Pity."   
"Yes. MI-6 and its allies are quite annoying. But that is of   
little importance at the moment. Right now, for I have found you."   
"Again, I ask, what need have you of me?" Lionel stepped back a little,   
grasping his family closer to him.   
"You are the head of MI-6's arms trade department. You will sign   
the order to ship munitions, vehicles, and other supplies to my base in Spain,   
where one of my men, Vega, will find them."   
"And why would I do such a thing?" Lionel stalled, voice surprisingly   
steady.   
A hideous smile traveled across Bison's face.   
"You have two fairly good reasons right here." he rumbled   
malevolently, gesturing to her and her mother, and they cowered under his gaze.   
"You have a point." Lionel said. "Well, it would seem that I have no   
choice but to comply, don't I."   
"It would seem not."   
"Then, we'll just be on our way...."   
"Not just yet."   
Suddenly the men who surrounded them began to close in.  
Bison growled. "I am not so stupid, Mr.White. As soon as you were out   
of my sight, you would have notified your contact at MI-6, a Colonel Wolfman.   
I can't allow that. Therefore, we will be taking a bit of collateral, until you have   
made good on our deal."   
At that, the men took rough hold of her, restraining her arms with their   
rough hands so she could not struggle.   
Her father and mother were aghast at the sight of her in the clutches of   
the red and black men.   
"Do not worry." Bison rumbled, as he grinned obscenely at the pair.   
"We will take good care of her. There is always a place for such a sprightly   
young thing in the body ranks of the Shadowlaw forces."   
Bison began to laugh, deep, malevolent, horrible laughter as the men   
began to drag her away.   
Cammy began to cry out, to break away from the men who had her.   
Suddenly, her father drew his service issue pistol out from underneath his suit   
jacket. He raised it at the big man.   
Her father's eyes were wild with fear and anger. "Unhand my   
Daughter, you sodding pillock." he demanded in a shaking voice.   
Bison was silent, as the men stopped. For a moment, they all stood   
there: The men still grasping her by the shoulders as she watched the scene play   
out in front of her, the man known as Bison standing like a monolith, towering   
over the slim Englishman that was her father, who was still training the pistol at   
his chest. Her mother, eyes wide with fear as she held her hands to her heart,   
standing behind her husband, looking back and forth between him and his gun,   
and to her in the clutches of the red and black men.   
Cammy remembered that look in her mother's eyes, and always would.   
It was a look of fear that had a disappearing glimmer of hope. How strange it   
was, then, because it seemed that her mother had been able to see one second   
into their grim future, for those eyes had a message in them, as well.   
The message was: Farewell, my child.   
In that split second, time that had been frozen now reassumed its   
horrible course. Bison moved to stand in front of her, so Cammy couldn't see   
what happened in that moment of terrible violence. All she could remember was   
a flash of brilliant light, a scream, and a shot issuing from her father's gun, now   
falling useless to the alley floor.   
It was over as quickly as it had begun, and Bison made a grunting   
sound as he brought his cloak about him.   
"Such a wasted effort." he said in a disgusted tone.   
"Sir." one of the men to her right said. "Are you all right?"   
Bison made no movement to cover the blood trickling from his upper   
arm. He looked at it, grunted again.   
"Pay it no mind." he rumbled. "The pain will remind me not to   
underestimate even those who seem harmless. Lionel White was a good shot, if   
a foolish man."   
Then he moved out of the way and she _saw_.   
Her parents lay on the ground in a pool of their own blood. They were   
not splayed about, like those scenes from horror movies. Rather, they had fallen   
alongside one another, in such a way that it seemed that they had simply fallen   
asleep in each other's arms.   
But Cammy knew now that it was the embrace of death that had   
claimed them. Her face went slack, her eyes frozen in an unblinking stare at the   
still forms of her mother and father. Those who had given her life had had it   
taken away from them.   
"A pity." Bison continued. "I suppose I will have to find another way   
to get the weapons."   
"Sir." someone said. "What will we do with her?" She barely   
remembered that they were talking about her.   
"Leave her." Bison said. "She is of no use and of no threat to me now."   
He then turned to leave.   
Then, something inside of Camilla White, age sixteen, snapped. With a   
scream of anguish and crazed fury, she attacked the man closest to her.   
The calm and cheerful schoolgirl became a whirling frenzy of flailing   
arms and legs as she bit, clawed, and kicked her way past the unassuming red   
and black men, and hurled herself at the man who had just killed her parents.   
Bison regarded her approach with the same neutral look that he had   
afforded her father's attempt at a threat. She no longer felt her body, her legs   
pumping, her arms outstretched to throttle, beat, or in some way destroy this   
monster that had taken away everything dear to her.   
Then there was that same brilliant, blinding flash of light and she found   
herself flying back into the far wall, where she hit, her head bouncing off the   
hard brick, and then slid to the ground.   
Pain like nothing she had felt before surged behind her eyes as she tried   
to focus her now rapidly blurring vision.   
She looked up to see the big man hovering over her, blank eyes   
glowing slightly. Then, something hard under her chin. The barrel of a gun.   
"Shall I finish her, sir?" someone said.   
For a second, silence. Then:   
"No." Bison commanded. "She is most fierce indeed. Perhaps I can   
find a use for her after all." Then he laughed that same menacing laugh   
that shook her to her very soul, even in her present state.   
It had started to rain, and she felt the cool drops of water fall onto   
her face as she started to slip into darkness, the sound of his terrible filling her   
ears. As she did so, she struggled to hold on to the last memory she had of her   
mother.   
_Farewell_   
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Now that she was awake, imprisoned, she remembered.   
Family.   
Love.   
Happiness.   
Danger.   
Bison.   
Threats.   
Being taken.   
Bison.   
A gun.   
BISON.   
A flash of deadly light.   
BISON!   
DEATH!   
PAIN!   
BISON!   
GRIEF!   
SUFFERING!   
_BISON!_   
Her eyes flew open to stare murderously at the man who face had   
burned its way into her mind and soul. The man who had destroyed her family,   
her life, had destroyed _her_.   
"_BISON!!!!!!!_"   
The death cry ripped from her throat as she suddenly threw herself   
away from the chair she had been strapped to. The metal restraints that had held   
her previously had been removed so the Doctor could administer "treatment" to   
her susceptible form. The only thing that had kept her down were the leather   
straps, and those somehow tore away like tissue paper as she leapt up and   
forward towards Bison. Death was in her eyes once again.   
Instead of a flash of light, he merely swung his arm in a wide arc and   
backhanded her.   
The universe exploded for Cammy as she was sent spinning to the   
floor. She felt the cold, hard tile.   
Bison bent down and grasped her face with his hand. She could see his   
glowing eyes, mouth with teeth like sharp rocks splitting into a grin as she   
chuckled.   
"What did I tell you, Doctor?" he laughed. "Fierce, wild, and savage.   
Uninhibited."   
"Indeed." the Doctor said, clearing his throat nervously.   
"She will make a fine addition to Shadowlaw, once her..... `training'   
is complete. But there is one lesson that needs to be learned now."   
Suddenly, her vision was nothing but white, as Bison's hand blazed   
with that same deadly light.   
Bison's face contorted into a cold, grisly mask.   
"You will learn that I am your master." he commanded. "You will   
serve me and only me. And soon."   
She heard herself scream and felt an intense searing pain alongside her   
left cheek. The world went blank for a second..........   
And she found herself back in the chair, the Doctor now hurrying to   
secure her within the metal restraints once again. The burning pain on her face   
was not going away, but she couldn't care at the moment.   
"Make sure this does not happen again." Bison rumble. "Or it will be   
you who faces my wrath."   
"Yes sir." the Doctor sniveled, clamping shut the strap locks. He   
picked up a syringe. "We'll start deprogramming right away. After that, we will   
begin on her physical reconditioning. The Killer Bee project will continue."   
"Good." Bison said. "Vega expressed an interest in training her,   
personally. He will be pleased, no doubt." Bison turned on his heel and began to   
walk from the chamber.   
"Sir!" the Doctor called after him. The dictator stopped and glared over   
his shoulder.   
The Doctor withered under Bison's threatening gaze. "Er... should   
I repair the scar on her face?" he stammered.   
Bison thought for a moment, and then answered.   
"No." he said. "Leave it. A momento."   
With that, he left, muttering, "Yes, she will make a fine Shadowlaw   
soldier. Perhaps I will even make her one of my personal guard......"   
The Doctor poked the syringe into her arm, and Cammy felt the world   
slipping away again.   
As she did, her head lolled to one side and her eyes fell on the nearby   
instruments tray that was suspended by a metal arm connected to her chair. On it   
were scalpels, needles, and other paraphernalia, but one item stood out among   
the gleaming metal tools.   
It was an angel, made of silver with wings of gold.   
And its arms were outstretched, as if to offer hope.   
Her eyes stayed on it, even as the world went black and she was thrust   
into darkness once again.   
  
  
THE END   
?  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   
  
*Whew*   
Hello, folks.   
Welcome to the updated "Millenium Edition" of Descent. It's been just   
about three years since it's initial release, and I figured I'd take the opportunity   
to tweak a few things I was un happy with last time.  
It's safe to assume that many of you have questions regarding the   
twisted little tale above, and I'll do my best to answer them.   
  
1.) Why a story about Cammy?   
Why not? She's my favorite Street Fighter character, right after Sakura   
and before Rose.   
  
2.) Why, of all things, a darkfic? (A darkfic is a fanfiction that is quite   
somber and dark in content, for those of you not "in the know".)   
Cammy is perhaps one of the most tragic female characters in the SF   
universe, so a tale about her run-in with Bison should be nothing less than   
"dark" in nature. All Cammy fanfics I've run into on the `net deal with her life   
_after_ the game. After playing X-Men VS Street Fighter, her Alpha-style   
character design and backstory somewhat influenced this story. In fact, I was   
going to draw this out much farther and detail the events that led her to MI-6.   
But, I've deigned to save that tale for another day.   
  
3.) When does this story take place, and in which continuity? The   
movie, Japanese TV series, American TV series, manga, or game? (NOTE: The   
1994 US-produced movie has been excluded. This is, in many respects, a good   
thing. :))   
A hefty question, as there are many different versions of the SF saga.   
This takes place before all of the above, and then deviates a little. After the   
events in this fic, Cammy goes on to become Bison's personal guard, as seen in   
XMVSSF. She then somehow escapes and then ends up in MI-6, as seen in the   
Cammy serialized comic in Viz Communications' now defunct game/manga   
magazine GAME ON! In fact, the "Colonel Wolfman" mentioned in this fic   
appears, if briefly, in that manga, which was authored by Masahiko Nakahira,   
who is the best Street Fighter manga artist ever.  
  
4.) Why a release? What's the difference?  
To be honest, not much. All I've really done is fix some dialogue here   
and there. This rerelease was inspired by CammyFan.Com, so I figured it   
wouldn't be proper to simply just dust off an old file without making a few   
improvements.  
  
In closing, thanks to Stefan and CammyFan.Com, whose very existence inspired   
this rerelease! Be on the lookout for more Cammy fics, now that I have THE best   
Cammy info site as a resource.  
  
Later,  
  
Dare  
  
dare2live@hotmail.com   
  



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